


Prisonstuck

by cachaemickChymist



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, And by that I mean catnip and Faygo, Because I can only type 'Psiioniic' so many times, Drug Use, Fluff and Humor, Food Fight, I use the dancestors' names for some characters, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mind Control, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader is a prison guard, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-10-16 04:20:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10563576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cachaemickChymist/pseuds/cachaemickChymist
Summary: Most people don't even know how to interact with trolls, let alone how to keep eleven in one place without them killing each other. Even Redglare can only keep a tenuous peace, and she is a troll. Now you, a pacifist by nature with a talent for de-escalating conflicts, have been reassigned to the troll section of the prison you work at. Between cellmate conflicts, catnip dealing, a psychic pirate, and centuries-old grudges, you have no idea how you'll survive this.





	1. My new job is what?!

**Author's Note:**

> Updates are going to be sporadic because of my schedule, be warned.

The van rolled ever closer to the concrete building. You felt your heart sink as the barred windows shone in the sun. You spent a lot of time in this depressing place, but this wasn't like the other times. Your trepidation only grew as you considered the unique aspect of Hillworth Womens' Prison.

Any prison would be daunting to some extent, but this one currently housed some of the oldest and most powerful trolls known to man. Thankfully, they stayed in their own section and rarely interacted with the general population.

The van stopped in front of the building and you climbed out of the front seat, thanking your friend for taking you to work. At least your car died on Sunday, so you had time to ask for a ride. But you would still have to face the music for last week.

You took a deep breath and stepped into the austere lobby. You made your way to the receptionist and presented your ID. She checked it and pressed a button, unlocking the staff area door. "Thank you," you said before entering, hoping she didn't notice the shakiness in your voice. You clocked in as you watched the halls, scanning for your boss. After your failed attempt at breaking up a fight, he said he'd decide what to do about your job on Monday. You were praying it would only be a demotion.

"(Y/N)," a cold voice said behind you. Your breath caught in your throat, though you managed to not jump or make a noise, "My office. Now."

You followed him to the small, bland room. He gestured to a chair that gave you flashbacks to middle school visits to the principal’s office and you sat down. All this needed as an obnoxiously bright light and a one-way mirror and this could be a scene from a cop drama, you thought.

"Quite a fuckup there," he said, "You got your partner sent to the hospital, because you were a coward."

That was a fairly accurate representation of what happened. You couldn’t talk a pair of inmates arguing about a stolen pair of shoes out of fighting and, when it escalated, your partner ended up with a concussion. She had forgiven you after you apologized profusely, at least.

"Ordinarily, I would have fired you. However, you’ve been an incredibly valuable employee and we have a position that desperately needs filling. So you’ll be Neophyte Redglare’s assistant…unless you want to resign, of course."

That name sounded familiar, and it only took you a second to realize why. She was in charge of the troll section, and one of her duties was training ordinary correctional officers to handle trolls. Nobody had lasted as her assistant for longer than a month, it was rumored. Accounts varied on whether that was because of Redglare herself or the other trolls.

"I'll do it," you said. You still needed a paycheck to deal with the broken car, after all.

"Good. Wait in the break room, then. She'll be here in a few minutes," your (former, as of a second ago) boss said. You left the room as soon as you got the chance. There was nothing about this particular section you would miss, except your partner. You invited her over for lunch on the weekends all the time anyway.

You barely noticed the object poking your leg at first. Then it happened again. And again.

"Hey, what are y--" The words died on your tongue as you turned around. A troll, taller than some of the tallest women in your previous section and wearing red glasses, stood before you. The poking must have been from her dragon-headed cane. "Are you Neophyte Redglare?" you asked. Why couldn’t she just greet you with words like a normal person anyway?

"You can call me Ms. Pyrope if you prefer. I know humans get annoyed with my title sometimes. And you're (y/n)?" she asked, her voice high-pitched and raspy.

"I am."

"People say you're good with non-violent conflict resolution," she said, "That's a good skill in my section, since even the weakest troll can wipe the floor with a human."

She walked away, and you followed.

"Anyway, your role in this is to be my guinea pig as I figure out how to train humans for keeping trolls in line. Please keep in mind that extended incarceration is a new concept for me, since most crimes were punished with execution, forced labor, and the like on Alternia."

You hoped her cultural background didn't affect her treatment of assistants.

"It was a terrible system. The human legal system is far from perfect, but i like it better."

You listened to her pseudo-lecture about the wonders of human rights. Her joy was infectious, but your heart went out for her. Here she was, excited about things you took for granted. You wondered what exactly the Alternian legal system was like.

She stopped in front of a well-reinforced door and swiped her card. It unlocked with a click.

"Sorry in advance about the ugly walls," she said, "The stuff on the walls blocks many varieties of psychic abilities, particularly psionics and ghost communication. It can't block some forms of mind control though."

And she was right about the walls. Most places were covered in some foil-like substance, then crudely painted over. Concrete paneling covered the foil in some places, so this was obviously a temporary solution while they made renovations. Why anti-psionic barriers were important enough to warrant a temporary solution, you didn't want to know.

"You know the drill. Everyone's working right now, so I'm going back to my office and trying to negotiate this stupid-ass cell change."

"Cell change?" you asked. Those were usually pretty simple in your section.

"Actually, come with me. I'll catch you up on everything going on here. All you need to know about the cell situation for now is that we have to separate by sex and we try to prevent large blood color discrepancies between cellmates. You know about the hemospectrum stuff, right? It was all over the news when humans found out about trolls. Anyway, this leads to any cell changes being difficult," Redglare explained.

You followed her to her office, which looked like a very tacky version of the office you were just in. Every single object seemed to be a different bright color.

"Here," she said, removing a laptop from below her desk and inserting a CD, "We usually don't show interview tapes without a special circumstance, but these guys are the definition of special circumstance." She played the CD and walked away, putting ground coffee in the machine stuffed in the corner.

The screen stayed black, but you could hear the static-filled sound of a microphone picking up background noise.

"Damara Megido, also known as the Handmaid. Arrested for felony assault," an off-camera voice said.The screen now showed a troll with fire-colored ram horns, wearing a dirty green dress.

"Can you explain your motivation for attacking the victim?" the voice asked.

"Felt like it," she said with what sounded like a thick accent she was training herself out of. She smiled in a way that would have melted your heart, had her response been less of a red flag for psychopathy. Her interview continued, her responses always short and remorseless. The screen went black again as the next interview played.

"Rufioh Nitram, known as the Summoner. Convicted of felony tax evasion."

You could only wonder how he got through doors with horns like his. You sort of spaced out thinking about that, missing most of his confusion about what exactly taxes were and why he had to pay them. The room was different from the one Damara was in, no one-way mirror this time. He seemed harmless. Kind of cute too. You ended up watching his wings flutter until the screen went black.

"Mituna Captor, known as the Psiioniic. Convicted for trespassing, resisting arrest, and involuntary manslaughter."

This troll sparked red and blue all around him. He talked quickly. The date stamp at the bottom of the screen showed that he came here recently.

"Just give me a quick death, please. I don't want to be a Helmsman again!" he cried, gold-colored tears streaming down his face as he thrashed in his cuffs.

"Please calm down, Mr. Captor," the off-camera voice said. It was definitely Redglare speaking. You had no idea how you didn’t realize it sooner, "This isn't Alternia. In fact, I would appreciate it if you stopped using your psionics. Now, how did you lose control of your abilities in the killing of Officer Robert Harkin, and is there a way to prevent it from happening during your incarceration?"

Mituna explained how he was involved in an anti-trollphobia rally, which was unknowingly trespassing on a company's property. When the police went to arrest them, they all ran. However, he panicked and, during a flashback to his life on Alternia, he lost control of his powers and killed a police officer. The sparks picked up again as he trailed off into rushed apologies. Somewhere in there he mentioned a special material that prevented him from using his powers.

"So that's why you have the wall thing?" you asked. Redglare looked up from pouring Faygo in her coffee. Wait...there was no way she would drink that, right? No, she drank half of it in one gulp. Your stomach turned.

"Part of the reason. I should mention that Mituna's doing better. Just don’t be too harsh with him."

You nodded and played the next interview.

"Kankri Vantas, known as the Signless. Convicted for trespassing and resisting arrest."

You couldn't see his face, since his hood cast too many shadows. He seemed to be the leader of the failed rally, from his description of the events. Redglare explained how prison worked before asking questions, in case he panicked like Mituna did.

"The red-blooded creatures treat their criminals fairly," he remarked. You fell in love with that spirited, rough around the edges kind of voice, "Is this the afterlife? It’s almost like someone tried to create a heaven specifically for me."

"We all seem to be alive, though I don't know how or why," Redglare said. Had they not been alive before? You decided it was some existential garbage and kept watching.

"Meulin Leijon, known as the Disciple. Convicted for trespassing and resisting arrest."

"So I just have to answer some questions? That's what Tuna told me," the short troll said. She had the fluffiest hair you had ever seen.

"That's right. And were you told about how you would serve your sentence?"

"Yes. It's such a relief! I was worried I'd lose Kankri again, but I get to be with him? This is wonderful!" You had never seen anyone so excited to go to prison. Then again, it seemed like this group had been on the wrong side of the Alternian legal system at one point. You wanted to ask what happened to them, but at the same time you didn't want to know.

“Porrim Maryam, known as the Dolorosa. Convicted for trespassing, resisting arrest, and assault.”

The first few seconds of the video were too shaky to see anything. Redglare finished adjusting the camera and it focused on a tall troll. Green tears streamed down her face and either something was wrong with the video or she glowed erratically.

“Do whatever you want to me,” she said, “Just promise you won’t harm my son.”

“I promise nothing will happen to either of you.”

Porrim’s glow dimmed and she smiled a little, still crying. Redglare definitely had a talent for putting others at ease.

“Thank you.”

“Now, I know you’re a rainbow drinker. What sort of accommodations would I have to make for that? Any dietary needs, necessary supplements, or anything like that? You’ll have some time to go outside every day, so sunlight shouldn’t be an issue.”

“What’s a rainbow drinker?” you asked.

“Similar to a vampire. They can be treated like normal trolls. Just be aware that they’re extremely fast. You have to outthink them if you want to apprehend one.”

You turned your attention back to the last bit of the video. Porrim smiled a little when Redglare told her about an endangered species conservation work program she was being considered for. She, like the rest of her group, was polite and cooperative. You had thought these trolls would be difficult to deal with. So far, everyone except Damara would be easy. You hoped this was true of everyone else.

"Aranea Serket, known as Marquise Spinneret Mindfang. Arrested for--do I really have to list all this? I do? Okay, convicted for several counts of robbery, grand theft, petty theft, aggravated assault, murder, possession and sale of controlled substances, public inebriation, indecent exposure...okay I think we hit the highlights. I'm not reading everything here."

The troll being interviewed struggled against her handcuffs, long hair tossing as she did so. She had fluffier-looking hair than Meulin.

"What can I say? It's a pirate's life for me, Neophyte," she purred.

Redglare asked some questions about a car theft, and other crimes committed while she had the car. Mindfang recounted everything in lurid detail, smiling and joking the whole time. You were a little terrified, especially when she talked about speeding away from the police, the blood of the man she hit earlier still all over the hood. She made no attempt to make herself look innocent, something you had only seen with lifers who had nothing to lose. So maybe they wouldn’t all be easy to deal with.

"Horuss Zahhak, known as Executioner Darkleer. Arrested for grand theft."

He wore a strange pair of glasses and sweated profusely, his handcuffs jingling as he fidgeted.

"Now, Darkleer, exactly what did you do with the horses before they were found in your house?" Redglare asked.

A gray arm reached around you and skipped through most of the interview.

"The answer gave me nightmares for weeks," she said, "I'll spare you."

On screen, Darkleer's handcuffs released with a click. You could see a twisted scrap of metal (it looked like part of a belt buckle, contorted into a point) in his clenched fist. Redglare knocked the camera over as she leapt at him, the lens breaking into a spiderweb pattern. The video cut off there.

“Kurloz Makara, known as the Grand Highblood. Arrested for two counts of first degree murder,” Redglare said.

The camera bobbed wildly as she adjusted it. The date stamp showed that this was earlier than the others you had seen. Once the camera stabilized, you could see his real height. Damn. He had to be above eight feet tall, even without those ridiculous horns. He had been put in a straitjacket and he had either been sedated or was just high.

“Good to motherfuckin’ see ya, Redglare,” he slurred, “Now let’s get outta here before they realize you ain’t workin’ for them.”

“Actually, sir, you aren’t my boss anymore. I do, in fact, work for them. Now, can you tell me exactly why you decided to paint your house with your victims’ blood?”

He blinked a few times, raising an eyebrow like she was surprised he would ask that question. You felt your heart sink. You would have to interact with him, too?

“Sets a motherfuckin’ example, ya know? Don’t be like these guys or I’ll up and cull ya too,” he said, slumping forward onto the table, “Damn, I wanna Faygo. Can ya be a little miracle and get me somethin’?”

“You worked for someone like that?” you asked Redglare. She nodded, lips pressed into a thin black line. She pushed the soda-laced coffee an inch or so away from her as she continued reading over some documents. You would have asked what that was like, but she didn’t seem to want to answer. The next interview played before you could ask anything more.

“Cronus Ampora, known as Orphaner Dualscar. Convicted for kidnapping and resisting arrest.”

He had fins. Okay. He had gills too, and cartoonishly ridiculous armor. He looked like a villain from a bad superhero show.

“I didn’t do it! The bitch is lying!” he said.

“Really? Because Mindfang and Rufioh had very similar testimonies. Sure hers seemed…embellished, but not enough to be a lie, and I could easily get the real details. So, what was your motivation for abducting Rufioh Nitram?”

“They’re matesprits! They collaborated on making up the whole thing!” Dualscar yelled, leaning as far forward as he could with his hands cuffed behind him. You could hear Redglare’s sigh.

“And why would they do such a thing?”

“I was competition, that’s why. Without me selling guns, her business is bett—oh shit,” he trailed off as Redglare chuckled, trying to conceal it with a fake cough.

“You were selling weapons? I’m going to guess you don’t have permits for that sort of thing?”

The rest was just Dualscar lying his ass off and Redglare calling him out on it, until he had at least five charges added.

“This is a pre-trial interrogation,” you said. Actually, most of them were. Only Rufioh’s and Kankri’s group's were post-conviction interviews, yet Redglare led all of them. Your brain had just been too scrambled by a lack of coffee to notice it before, “Were you a cop?”

“I switched when the prison got a substantial troll population,” she said, “These videos are the ones that best show off the peculiarities of trolls, such as Mituna’s powers and Kurloz being cavalier about murder. Now…watch the last one knowing that you’ll be interacting with her directly tomorrow.”

You played the last video, wondering exactly what would require a warning.

“Meenah Peixes, known as Her Imperious Condescension. Arrested for embezzlement, fraud, and conspiracy to commit treason.”

No way. No freaking way. She was here? Her attempted world takeover had been all over the news a few years ago, and she was said to be crazy powerful. She should be in a supermax facility somewhere far away from here.

They brought her in straitjacketed, her ever-present tiara either removed or lost in her hair. Both options seemed likely. Her fins flared in what you were sure was supposed to be a threatening display as the officers restrained her legs. They had to use their strongest restraints, and even then they asked Redglare if those would hold.

“You can’t glubbin’ do this!” she sputtered, “I’m ya empress, tealblood!”

You heard papers shuffling, presumably Redglare going through her file. You heard a quiet “hmm” coming from off-camera.

“Actually, I can. You became an American citizen in 1921, did you not? That means you can be prosecuted under American law.”

“I—cod dammit…”

A glowing symbol (Mindfang’s perhaps, the video wasn’t good enough to tell) appeared on her forehead. Redglare, the same symbol glowing on her head, came toward her. She had an empty look in her eyes.

“Now untie me.”

The officers who had restrained Meenah both tackled Redglare. You admired the way they kept her arms, how the awkward positioning forced her to use weaker muscles if she wanted to push them off. It was a good way to get the upper hand against a stronger person. Not that you could ever do it.

“Not my…proudest moment. Trolls are more susceptible to mind control than humans, so I’m glad I had backup,” Redglare said, “On that note, Mindfang has the same power and a tendency to misuse it. Keep an eye on her.”

“And tomorrow I’ll have to deal with Meenah too?”

“Pretty much. I’d expect some of the work programs to let out soon, by the way. Good luck out there!”

Wait, that was all? You at least had some things to keep in mind from the videos (watch out for Mindfang, Darkleer can improvise lockpicks, and don’t be too harsh with Mituna), but this didn’t feel like proper training at all. Redglare had admitted up front that she had no idea what she was doing, but this was…

This must have been why the others quit.

And since you couldn’t quit until you could pay for the car repairs, you just left, hoping your job would be fairly intuitive. You got some coffee on your way out, even adding a little Faygo in case that somehow helped your situation. You needed any miracles you could get.


	2. Catnip and the Meatball Incident

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the way I'm doing this is I'm writing a chapter where every character becomes friends with the reader, then writing a shorter romantic ending for each character after the main chapters. Also, sorry this took so long. I hope the length makes up for it.

Faygo-laced coffee wasn't as bad as you thought it would be. You took another sip as you headed to the entrance of the troll section. Most of them would be getting back from their work programs now that it was almost three, so you had to oversee the common area.  
You remembered the Mindfang interview, a chill going down your spine as you thought about dealing with her. Didn't Redglare mention that the Condesce would be coming out of solitary tomorrow too?  
Your heart stopped for a second when the lock clicked, like a horror movie jumpscare could happen any minute.  
Someone wordlessly handed over a pair of trolls, Kankri and Dualscar from the looks of them. They smelled like dead leaves.  
"Mituna's not here ye--oh," Kankri stopped before he passed you, though Dualscar kept walking. Thank God. You didn't want to deal with him any more than you had to, "Did Redglare get a new assistant?"  
You nodded.  
"Well then, do you know anything about the current state of the cell reassignment requests?" he asked.  
"She mentioned something about negotiating with her boss. Why do you ask?"  
His smooth voice put you at ease from the first word. You'd willingly listen to him talk about anything he wanted.  
"I'm sharing a cell with the man who killed me, for one. And my mother...she won't tell me about her situation, but Meulin says it's bad."  
"He...killed you? But you're here," you said. Was this another weird troll biology thing, like the buckets? Did they just come back?  
"I don't quite understand either. We all died, but we came back. I guess I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth...ugh. Can't even say horse without thinking of him. Nice to meet you, by the way," Kankri said before he walked away. At least the first prisoner you met was nice.  
Another group of trolls came back, Rufioh and Porrim most likely. Mituna followed them shortly after, covered in grease and metal shavings.  
You heard her before you saw her. A glib, confident voice came from the other side of the door and your blood froze. Mindfang.  
"Anyway, Darkleer, did you make any progress on fixing that phone? I have a descendant in need of my guidance, you know. Who knows what she'd do..." she trailed off when she saw you there. She towered over you by at least a foot and a half, and you swallowed a lump in your throat. But you had to maintain professionalism.  
"What's this about fixing a phone?" you asked, "Which one of you has a phone?"  
She looked over at him. He had ridiculous-looking safety glasses on, so you couldn't tell if the glance was a two-way exchange, but you guessed so.  
"No, I mean one of the pay phones. It hasn't been fixed in a month, so we're working with Redglare to see if we can take matters into our own hands. Darkleer's good at things like that, and I'm good at convincing Redglare," she said. You felt something in your head. It wasn't a headache, no, it was closer to a wiggling sensation.  
Mindfang scowled a bit. Then you felt your eyelids get heavy and you wobbled. The ground might as well have been a five-star hotel's bed. Your last thought before you passed out was Redglare mentioning that the ugly walls failed to block some forms of mind control.  
You woke up with a wet napkin on your forehead, still in the spot where you passed out.  
“Hit your head,” an accented voice said. You looked up at the ram-horned troll, noticing the stains on her blue jumpsuit. She hadn’t gotten out of her work clothing and, judging from your watch, you had been out for a while.  
“Did you just get back?” you asked. She shook her head.  
“Twenty minutes. Didn’t wake up. We need to talk,” she said. That last sentence struck fear into your heart in the way that innocuous but loaded phrases tend to do.  
More importantly, twenty minutes? It could be a madhouse in there if you weren’t watching. What if Redglare didn’t know what happened to you and trusted you to handle it? Your heart sank at the thought, but you climbed to your feet.  
“Let’s walk and talk, then” you said, “I need to check on the others.”  
Damara followed, leaving the wet napkin on the floor. You could sort of figure out the layout of the ugly foiled halls as you wandered through them in search of the common room.  
“So, what do you need to talk about?” you asked. You hoped it wasn’t a troll relationship drama thing. One type of prison relationship was enough of a headache, but four? You’d rather deal with a riot any day.  
“Bad cellmate,” she said, “Smokes catnip. Loud friends.”  
You looked through the file Redglare gave you, checking the cell arrangements. Damara was with…Meulin. Really? You wouldn’t have thought of her as the smoking catnip type.  
“Have you asked Redglare about changing cells?” you asked, “It seems like she’s in the middle of some negotiations.”  
“No better. All hate me. Call me a demon.”  
Well, that was quite a problem.  
“Humans aren’t scared. They wouldn’t hate me.”  
“Actually, um…humans are pretty scared of trolls,” you said. She sighed and lowered her gaze. Maybe you shouldn’t have told her that.  
You finally found the common room, and it didn’t seem like anything had happened. Kankri played a game of cards with his friends and Rufioh sat on one of the couches, positioned so his horns couldn’t hit anyone of anything as he read a pirate romance novel. You wondered where the others went.  
“Maybe you could join their game,” you suggested. Damara shook her head.  
Kankri looked up and smiled at her.  
“We’d love to have you,” he said. She stepped toward him hesitantly, and he and Meulin moved over. They even thought to make space for her large, twisted horns, how nice.  
Meulin…why did that name remind you of…oh, right. You got a tip, and you had to get back to Redglare about it. Where was her office, anyway? Maybe you could just call her about it. You found an empty hallway far away from the common room and took your phone out.  
“Hey, is this Neophyte Redglare?”  
“What’s the problem?” she asked, “Do you need help?”  
“Yeah. I just got a tip that Meulin has been smoking catnip. Is she allowed to do that? Is it for medical purposes or something?”  
You heard shuffling in the hall, but you couldn’t see what made the sound. If it was a troll, they were too far away to hear you.  
“She’s not allowed to do that. Can you check her cell, please? I think it would be easier for you to do it. If you find anything, please bring it to me,” she instructed.  
“Okay, thank you.”  
The figure came into view, and you could see the fins on his ears. Dualscar, then. What was he doing over here anyway? You knew the cells weren’t here, or much of anything for that matter. You kept an eye on him.  
“Usually it takes days for them to start talking to new humans,” Redglare said, “Sort of impressive that they’re already talking to you. Keep doing whatever you’re doing, I guess.”  
“Thanks. I’ll get back to you if I find anything,” you said as you hung up. You were officially involved in a drug bust, you thought. Which was both cool and absolutely terrifying.  
“Hello there,” a haughty –sounding voice said. You hadn’t realized that he’d gotten closer again. What was his problem anyway?  
“Need something, Mr. Ampora?” you asked, forcing a friendly smile on your face as he loomed over you. He grinned, showing off his shark-like teeth.  
“Depends. Heard you’re investigating the catnip trade,” he said. Maybe you should have talked to Redglare about it in person. Or he could be useful.  
“Do you have any information?” you asked, keeping eye contact. His height made it awkward, but you didn’t want to show weakness.  
“Stay the hell out of it. That’s my information. I know of a few powerful highbloods in the trading business, and you don’t want to piss them off.”  
“Really?” you asked, “Like who?”  
“The Grand Highblood, for one. He’s the top supplier, and probably where the catnip came from. You don’t want to get on his bad side, okay? So just stay out of it.”  
You rejoiced internally. If the videos taught you anything, it was that Dualscar couldn’t keep a secret.  
“Does he trade in anything else?” you asked, “Other psychoactive substances, maybe?”  
“I’ve heard he trades electronics for Faygo, but the stuff’s almost impossible to get. I’ve heard he’s got Darkleer fixing stuff for him too. Well, it’s been nice chatting, but I have crossword puzzles to do.”  
And he left.  
This left you in a difficult situation. On one hand, you could turn the cell upside down and alert Meulin to what you were doing, possibly getting Kurloz involved in the process. Or you could ignore it and...no, no, you'd probably lose the job that way.  
Maybe Damara would know where it was. If you made this look like she was complaining about her living conditions, nobody would suspect a thing. You re-entered the common room.  
A few more had trickled in. Kurloz lifted weights while Darkleer "spotted" him, though he paid more attention to the book he was reading. He had to be in some sort of education program. Nobody reads Dickens willingly. You looked over his information, which only indicated that he worked at the prison's manufacturing facility. So maybe he did like verbose British literature.  
"So, how's the captain?" Meulin asked.  
"Can we not talk about this here?" Porrim said, taking another card from the deck, "Let's not scare off our fifth player with too much negativity."  
"Go on. I will not tell," Damara added.  
Was this about the cell arrangements? You checked. Sure enough, Porrim shared a cell with Mindfang. Shouldn't they be different security levels, though? Did pairing by blood color take priority over even that? Ridiculous, you thought, but trolls were weird.  
"It's about me, isn't it?" Kankri said, "You don't have to worry about me knowing your situation. I've already talked about mine enough."  
Porrim sighed.  
"Since everyone wants to know, apparently, Mindfang's doing well. She doesn't even have to clean her side of the cell, since she makes me do it. And that's not even the beginning of what she does with that power of hers. At least she spends most of her time with Rufioh."  
"And Redglare still won't help you?" Mituna asked, "She never cared about us in the first place, did she? She certainly didn't when Kankri--"  
"That's enough, Tuna," Kankri said, "Redglare's doing her best, and this is just a difficult situation. Anyway, who wants to play spoons?"  
You walked up to Damara.  
"Hey, you said something about broken mattress springs?" you said. That sounded natural enough, like a complaint someone could have without bringing another person into it.  
She cocked an eyebrow. You mouthed "play along," hoping she would understand.  
"Bed is broken. Very uncomfortable," she said, "Come see."  
Damara got up, waving goodbye to the rest of the group. Only Kankri waved back.  
"Her bed's not broken," Meulin said as you walked away. A chill went down your spine. You shouldn't have brought Damara into this. What if Meulin figured it out and something happened? She didn't seem the type, but every prison has stories of what they do to snitches.  
"I’m a love expert, so of course I know an excuse to hang out when I see one.”  
The tension released from your body. She didn't suspect a thing. Damara led you to their shared cell, not speaking the entire time. You watched how she untangled her long hair from her curly horns, and how she focused on those strands instead of looking at you.  
She opened her cell door, showing a room like any other. The top bunk was mostly a pile of notebooks with just enough room for a Meulin-size troll to sleep, while the bottom bunk stayed empty and perfectly made. The tiny desk had nothing on it but a cup of worn-down pencils and empty pens.  
"Any idea where she puts it?" you asked.  
"No."  
So you checked her bed first, clearing away notebooks as you did so. Nothing under the pillow, or under the messily-folded blanket. Nothing in any of the notebooks either, you noted, though a hollowed out book would make a good hiding place. You checked the frame, even if it obviously wasn't there. Fabric rustled below you  
"Damara, have you found anything?" you said as you raised your head. From the top of the bunk bed, you got a great view of her removing her work clothes. Heat rushed to your face, especially when you realized that she looked good.  
"Hey! Don't strip while I'm here!"  
"Why not?"  
You just averted your eyes, going back to searching the frame until you heard her zip up her jumpsuit. Then you climbed down and searched the desk. The clear casing of the pens hid nothing from view, and she probably didn't hollow out a pencil. You dumped the contents of the cup onto the desk, but there wasn't anything interesting. Just more pens, pencils, a scrap of crumpled-up paper--wait. You unrolled it to reveal something written in Alternian.  
"Hey, Damara, can you read something for me?" you asked. She glanced over at the paper.  
"Can't read Alternian," she said.  
"But you're a troll. You can't read your own language?"  
"Long story. Raised far from Alternia. Learned human languages. Still learning English," she explained.  
"Really? What other languages do you know?"  
"Chinese, Japanese, Russian, French, and Greek," she said, grinning when she saw your wide eyes.  
"That's amazing. If I may, do you know more about human or troll culture?" you asked.  
"Don't know much about humans. Know less about trolls."  
So that was why she wanted a human cellmate. It may even be better for her. Maybe. You had no idea, to be quite honest.  
You took a picture of the note and sent it to Redglare, texting ‘mind translating?' for context. She responded a few minutes later with ‘It says bottom left corner. Are you searching her cell?’  
Bottom left corner? The desk's legs were thin enough to see everything near them, so the note didn't refer to the desk. Bottom...bunk? You moved a pillow aside and checked the left corner of Damara's bed, messing up her perfectly-arranged blanket. Sure enough, a crack in the frame held a small bag of leaf fragments.  
Catnip.  
The very next morning, you're in Redglare's office discussing what to do with this information.  
"Normally she'd get solitary for drug possession. We'll have a cell open soon, but considering her past, it would be inhumane to consider. I suggest we throw away the bag, pretend we never saw it, and find out who's distributing instead."  
"Dualscar said it's Kurloz," you said, "And what happened with Meulin?"  
"Of course he'd say that. Doesn't mean it's true. As for Meulin, it's a long story, but basically she lived alone in a cave for most of her life. She can't be alone for too long now."  
Oh. You never would have guessed.  
“Anyway,” Redglare said, “Prisoner transfer’s in twenty minutes. Are you ready?”  
“No.”  
“At least you’re honest. I’m not ready either.”  
She poured more Faygo into her coffee, and you could see how the brown liquid took on a red tint. Now that had to be disgusting.  
“Anyway, do you know what’s up with Damara?” you asked, “Since she doesn’t know Alternian and says she grew up somewhere else.”  
“Right, her. She lived several thousand sweeps after most of us…our first lives, that is. Meenah met her once, I’ve heard. Alternia had been destroyed, and some entity, not human or troll, raised her. She became his servant, and she traveled through history causing chaos. But…I don’t think she ever learned how to be a troll, or a human for that matter. Speaking of her, she mentioned something about her living conditions? Did she tell you anything about Meulin making her clean the whole cell?”  
“You’ve seen her cell, right? Meulin just doesn’t clean. Besides, I overheard Porrim saying the exact same thing about Mindfang,” you said. Redglare groaned.  
“And of course she didn’t report it. God, between her never telling me anything and Damara making shit up, I can’t tell what’s going on in there. I’m glad you can be my eyes while I’m swamped in paperwork.”  
You asked a little more about the tensions between various prisoners, and you learned that current rivalries mostly followed the lines of who killed who. The only real exception was Kankri, who preferred to avoid Darkleer but didn’t hate him. Even Redglare admitted to holding a grudge against Mindfang.  
"Alright. Prisoner transfer starts in five minutes," she said, "Let's go."  
You left her office and followed her to a door you hadn't noticed before. A card swipe later, you found yourself in another foil-covered hallway.  
"We basically claimed this entire hall as part of the troll section so that we could get a solitary cell," Redglare said, "Nobody appreciated the new wall decor though."  
A group of security guards met you and Redglare in front of a heavy metal door.  
"So, ready to open Pandora's box?" one of them asked. From the hard look in his eyes and the set of his jaw, you could tell he wanted to keep her locked up and "lose" the key.  
"She's been well behaved enough to rejoin the general population, but I don't know if she'll keep it up. Now, you may have to restrain her or me, so be prepared for that," Redglare said. Some of the assembled guards nodded, others watched the door.  
She tapped out some numbers on the keypad, and you heard the click of the lock releasing echo down the hallway. Then she swiped her card for good measure, the door fully unlocking with another loud click.  
"Ugh, finally!" the cell's occupant said as Redglare opened the door. You had seen pictures of the Condesce, as the newspapers liked to call her, but seeing her in person was...it was something entirely different. She was taller than any human, with a mouth full of shark-like teeth. Her hair more than made up for her terrifying appearance, flowing around her and making you unable to tear your eyes away. Not that you'd want to. She was actually quite beautiful, even with shark teeth.  
"Who's this guppy? She a snack?"  
You noticeably flinched at the comment, and one of the guards placed a hand on his holster. She grinned, too many teeth showing.  
"Actually, this is my new assistant. She'll be seeing to your needs and those of the other inmates while I handle office matters," Redglare said.  
"How cute."  
You just muttered something like "right this way, please," and walked toward the main cell block.  
"Anyway, Ms. Peixes, you currently have no cellmate. However, you don't have to be in your cell until lockdown and you're free to socialize until then. You've been assigned to work as a cook, and you will be working with the Handmaid," Redglare said, "And, in case you're going to ask me about the latest drama, there isn't anything new. Dualscar and the Grand Highblood drew a line in the center of their cell to prevent a repeat of last week."  
"I sea I need to spice things up," she said.  
"Please don't."  
Redglare took Meenah to the troll section's small cafeteria, pointed someone out, and went back to her office.  
"Yo, time-travelin' freak!" Meenah yelled. You prayed they didn't have some sort of rough history like everyone else here apparently.  
"Nice to see you again," Damara said, "But I'd rather not."  
"Ugh, waterever. You're better with my 2x3dent in your chest anemoneway."  
And of course they have history. And said history involves murder. Because of course it does. So you stayed and watched them prepare lunch, just in case something happened.  
"The hell you do with that?"  
"Watch me. Stop touching things."  
"Shell no. I probably cook betta than your shit-for-blood ass, even if I dunno what this thing is."  
You figured it would be best to stay out of the way. Meenah would quickly realize she had no idea what she was doing and she would ask Damara for help. Then they'd work together of their own free will.  
"So I just heat up these frozen things? Seams easy enough for me," Meenah said. There didn't seem to be any problems, so you half-watched them while you read over some articles on Alternian history. Quite educational, considering how you were dealing with several Alternian historical figures.  
Several minutes later, you found yourself focused entirely on an article about highblood sex scandals when a loud noise came from the kitchen. A fire alarm went off and Damara yelled something in Chinese before stomping off.  
You rushed in as the scent of of burned wires and artificial cherry filled your nose.  
"What the--?!"  
Damara came back with a fire extinguisher, spraying the charred remains of the microwave and cursing Meenah out in several languages that flowed together.  
"I was tryna help!"  
"By...blowing up the microwave?" you asked.  
"I didn't do it for the halibut! I just...so there was pound cake, aight? And I thought it needed somefin extra, so I tried to make a cherry reduction sauce from this Faygo I found and..."  
"In the microwave? How long did you cook it?"  
"Twenty minutes. Y'know, like how long it takes for sugars to caramelize?"  
"That's not how microwaves work. And you have to open the bottle, otherwise it explodes," you said. She just rolled her eyes and muttered something like "I knew that."  
"Please, just do your job," you said, "And let Damara train you, okay? I know it's unusual for you to be ordered around, but she has more experience in a prison kitchen."  
Meenah rolled her eyes, but she walked up to Damara and started cleaning the wreckage of the microwave. You guessed that could be construed as a wordless apology. Satisfied, you helped Damara make lunch.  
By the time a few trolls walked in, she had a somewhat edible meal prepared. Spaghetti and meat(?)balls from the look of it, with slightly stale bread, dull green peas, and that pound cake. Kurloz and Darkleer took their trays and sat on opposite sides of the room. You could hear someone (Kankri, perhaps) talking just outside the door.  
In only a few minutes, everyone had come in. Most ate alone or in small clusters away from anyone else. Nobody caused trouble, at least.  
Then you saw it.  
Meenah started cleaning up, now that everyone had taken their food. She took the meatball bowl and walked toward the fridge. Damara hadn't noticed the food and brushed past her, realizing her mistake as the fuschiablood fell. Spaghetti sauce everywhere.  
"I'll clean it up," Damara said. Meenah didn't reply and you assumed all was fine. Now, Mindfang needed to get out of Rufioh's lap. You started walking toward her when you heard a loud "hey!" and in the kitchen you could see Damara with spaghetti caught in her horns. She booked it out of there and into the cafeteria.  
Meenah didn't give up. She threw bread at her escaping opponent, only to miss and hit Kurloz. He shuffled to his feet, showing off his full height as he threw his pound cake at Meenah. It hit with the deadly accuracy of a pie to the face and you thought maybe he'd stop there. Then he threw a meatball at Dualscar, hitting him in the chest, and you knew it was only the beginning.  
"You're missing a red nose, clown!" Dualscar yelled as he hurled a cherry tomato at Kurloz. It flew straight over his head and bounced off Mituna's horns. He didn't even look up. Porrim hissed at Dualscar, but you could hear Kankri telling her not to get involved. Meenah continued throwing meatballs as Damara kept running, dragging others into it as they were pelted with wayward ammunition. One hit Rufioh in the back of the head and Mindfang crawled out of his lap, picked up her tray, and stormed into the kitchen. You followed, but you couldn't intercept her before she dumped her entire tray over Meenah's head.  
"My hair!" the empress shrieked, "I'll burn you alive!"  
But nothing happened. She glared at the foil-covered wall and snarled while Mindfang ran back into the fray. You saw her steal Porrim's food as she tossed it at Rufioh. At least they seemed to be having a good time, acting like it was a tomato flavored snowball fight and like Kurloz wasn't about to punch Dualscar and...holy shit you needed to stop this. This was worse than last time you'd get in so much trouble if Redglare caught this.  
Meenah started trying to hit Damara again. You stood in front of her before she could start again.  
"Look, um, Ms. Peixes?" you said. You had her attention now, but she just burst out laughing.  
"The nerve on ya, gill! Try Your Imperious Condescension."  
"Alright, Your Imperious Condescension, can you please stop? She didn't mean to bump into you."  
"Why should I?"  
"Because I need to get this situation under control, and I'm hoping that if you stop, the others will follow your example," you said. They wouldn't, but if you could talk her into stopping, the rest would have to be easier, "Remember, I could tell Redglare about this and have you put back into solitary. Maybe we can keep this our secret if you stop now."  
"Wouldn't ya get in trouble if she knew? Like, fired sorta trouble?" she asked.  
"I hate this stupid job anyway," you said. There was less truth to the statement than you'd have expected yesterday, but she didn't know that, "But how about this: I don't tell Redglare, I'll keep anyone from hitting you until this food fight's over, and...I heard you like baking? How about I get you some stuff and you can make cakes? I'll get whatever you need and you can make anything, just please stop."  
She put the meatballs down and extended a red-covered hand. After a little hesitation, you shook it.  
"How aboat a pineapple upside-down cake for tomorrow's lunch and peanut butter cookies for dinner?" she asked, "I checked the menu, and I think those would complement the food best."  
"I think you care more about the quality of the food here than whoever's in charge of it," you said as you left. You could figure out what you'd need to buy for that, right? Whatever, bigger fish. Dualscar and Kurloz had settled their alpha male dominance fight and had stopped, and Meulin had joined. Now it was just Mindfang, Rufioh, and Meulin, and they looked to be having the time of their lives. But you had to break it up, even if you liked the way Damara smiled as she stood beside Kankri, watching them with an almost wistful look.  
Meulin threw her cake, but Rufioh sidestepped and it hit Darkleer. He stood and everyone froze.  
"Oh shit!" Mindfang crowed.  
He picked up one meatball, but he didn't aim at Meulin. The world seemed to move in slow motion as it flew toward Kankri.  
Next thing you knew, the meatball was a red splatter on Darkleer's crotch and Damara stood in front of an immaculately clean Kankri.  
"He said he wasn't involved," she said. You could hear whispers of "whoa, she caught it" and "do you think she was aiming when she threw it back?" as the others processed what had happened.  
"Thanks for, uh, saving me," Kankri said, "Even if getting messy is kind of a trivial thing."  
Damara looked away, the color on her cheeks darker than a human's would be, but still recognizable as blushing.  
"I didn't do it for you," she said, "Looked fun. Wanted to try."  
"You've never gotten to do stuff like that, have you?" Meulin asked. Damara shook her head, "That's okay! I'll be your friend and I'll do fun stuff with you!"  
"Then I guess you have four friends now," Kankri said, "We're kind of a set."  
“You don’t hate me? Even after all I did?”  
“Of course not. We all make mistakes. Now are we friends or what?” Mituna said, his heavy lisp making his words difficult for her to understand.  
"I guess we are. And I have five friends, not four," Damara said, looking over at you. You smiled back, your heart soaring at the thought of her giving Meulin a chance and considering you a friend.  
Mindfang shared her protein bars (where did she keep those anyway?) with anyone who threw their food instead of eating it. She even gave two to Porrim, as an apology for stealing her tray. Damara continued talking to the others and Meulin even offered to teach her Alternian, a proposition she seemed to accept happily. As everyone left and returned to their work or education programs, Damara said she'd clean up, and you decided to help her.  
Now you were alone with her and the messiest cafeteria you've ever laid eyes on.  
"Redglare's gonna kill me later," you said as you started picking up the largest pieces of food, "I wonder if she'll find out about the microwave or the food fight first. Was it fun, at least?"  
"Very," Damara said, smiling.  
You noticed a bounce in her step as she put away the leftover food and you wondered how you could make her this happy again. Maybe her new friends would help. Speaking of...  
"About what you said earlier..." you started. Should you really ask? Well, you went and started talking, might as well finish your thought, "Do you really consider me a friend?"  
"Of course I do. Now, keep cleaning. I don't want my new friend getting fired."  
You laughed and did as she said. Maybe this job wasn't so bad after all. It couldn't be with company like hers.


	3. The Summoner seems to be a kite

Three days later, everything was going well. Damara loved to tell you about what Meulin taught her or what games she and her friends played in the yard. Apparently, trolls had a form of basketball, but she hadn't heard of the human or troll version. She was good at both, though.  
Also, since Meenah joined the rest of the trolls, the food reportedly jumped way up in quality. Of course, having good desserts made everything else look better too. She even left an extra slice of cake for you sometimes.  
But you were no closer on the catnip investigation. Kurloz had nothing suspicious in his cell aside from a bottle of Faygo. You reported that to Redglare anyway.  
"Oh, those," she said. You could see the reflection of the screen on her glasses and she was checking security camera footage, "I gave that to him. I bribe him with his nasty soda and he does favors for me. He's got useful powers for crowd control, and he's less likely to abuse them than, say, Mindfang."  
"Why doesn't the foil block it?" you asked.  
"Oh, right. You don't know. His chucklevoodoos, that's what they're called, are seen as always useful in Alternian society and so they're never blocked."  
She scrolled through a portion of the video.  
"And are Mindfang's the same way?" you asked.  
"Actually, no," Redglare answered, "Her powers are just so rare that nobody bothered developing anything to counter them. Her mind-reading ability is blocked, though, so she's less effective than she is outside."  
She raised an eyebrow and replayed a section of the video.  
"And speaking of crowd control..."  
Your mouth went dry as you realized exactly what she had just seen.  
"You have to pay attention to shit like this, okay? You could have stopped it before it was a problem, but you hadn't noticed it. What if that was a riot instead of a food fight?"  
"I'm sorry!" you said, "It won't happen again!"  
"I should hope not. Let this be a warning, alright? And, in the future, if a situation like this comes up, ask Kurloz to help you."  
"Thank you."  
"Now get out. We both have jobs to do."  
You left, checking your watch and your file as you did so. Almost yard time, then. After that, there was dinner and a human culture class for those who were having trouble adjusting. Almost everyone attended.  
With your face buried in the file, you hadn't noticed Rufioh talking to Mindfang. He hadn't noticed you either.  
You felt something heavy hit the back of your head with a sharp flare of pain. Tears came to your eyes.  
"Shit! I'm sorry!" Rufioh said, "I didn't see you there!"  
So he did hit people with his horns sometimes. You had been wondering about that.  
"It's fine," you said. You pretended not to see how Mindfang laughed at you.  
"You should probably put ice on that," he said, "I can probably convince Damara to give you a bag of frozen peas or something. Here, I'll take you."  
You tried to say you were alright, that it really wasn't a problem, but he pulled you along with him and...this wasn't about you, was it? You noticed that he had holes in his jumpsuit for his wings, with buttons holding them closed and hemmed by hand with surprisingly even stitches. What a clever adaptation, you thought. You barely noticed as he took you to a hallway near the kitchen and stopped.  
"Sorry for the false pretenses. I need your help."  
"I figured it was something like that," you said, "So what's the problem? Is it an embarrassing medical issue because trust me, I've heard everything before. You can tell me anything"  
"Well, I'm getting cramps in my wings from not being allowed to fly, but no. Mindfang's the problem," Rufioh said, "Whenever we go outside, she can read my thoughts, and there's something I don't want her to know."  
This sounded like dangerous territory. Like the edge of a medieval map with "Here There Be Dragons" written on it sort of dangerous.  
"Why can't you tell her about it?" you said. You regretted that statement before the words came out of your mouth, mostly because it was obvious why. That woman was...not a good fit for him, to say the least. But why would a great revolutionary like him be so nervous about hiding things from his girlfriend?  
"Because...I want to break up with her, but I want some time to gather my thoughts before I tell her about it."  
"She's not hurting you or anything, is she?" you asked. You had to admit, you assumed the worst of Mindfang after hearing her crime list. And something seemed sketchy about their relationship anyway. Why would someone like him and someone like her ever....never mind, that's not the point.  
"Not at all! She just deserves better than a break-up without explanation, and I still don't know why I want to end it."  
"That's really sweet," you said, "It takes quite a bit of luck to get someone as considerate as you."  
"So will you help me? You just need to keep me away from her when we're outside."  
You nodded. This sounded easy enough, especially since he had already given you a perfect excuse.  
He got an ice pack from the kitchen for you before heading back, and you started getting everyone ready to go out.  
As usual, everyone behaved as you took them outside. That, or those who caused the most problems (Kurloz) preferring staying in. You took the fire extinguisher this time, since Mituna had been fairly agitated earlier and who knows what he'd do with those powers of his. You also grabbed a rope.  
Speaking of Mituna, he picked up a basketball and started discussing something with the others. Probably about how they needed a sixth player now that Damara was with them.  
Rufioh had rejoined Mindfang, talking to her while running a hand through his hair with a fake smile on his face. You came closer.  
"So...yeah, we can't hang out for a bit because I need to...um, stretch my wings. Literally. It hurts a lot and (y/n) agreed to let me fly."  
She looked over at you, giving a friendly smile that seemed to be sincere.  
"That's good. I'd hate to see you in pain, darling."  
He muttered something and walked away, moving to his place in the single-file, alphabetically arranged line. Once you checked who was there, you opened the door and let them into the yard.  
The line disintegrated immediately, everyone walking out in various groups (Mindfang latched onto Damara and Porrim, it seemed) and spreading out until only Rufioh was near you.  
"Okay then, are you ready?" you asked. His wings flapped awkwardly, like he was warming up.  
"I think so," he said, "It has been a while."  
He followed you to a spot away from the others, not too close to the trees in case he ran into one. You knelt and tied the rope around his ankle, also tying the loose end into a loop you could hold.  
"Okay, you're free to--" you stopped at his quizzical look, "It's so you don't escape, okay? It's stupid, but I don't want to get in trouble again."  
He just laughed.  
"It's fine. I've been restrained in stranger ways, even if I seem to be a kite right now."  
His wings fluttered and he rose into the air, about a foot above the ground and still ascending. Everyone else seemed to be doing fine. Meenah and Dualscar played some card game, Mituna hadn't set anything on fire, and Mindfang...okay, she might be reading others' minds and using that to counter them, but you'd let it slide.  
Your feet weren't touching the ground, you noticed. You hung by the rope as he continued flying like nothing was happening.  
"Hey!" you called. Did he even notice? He didn't fly lower or even look your way, "Mr. Nitram!"  
"Yeah? Call me Rufioh, by the way."  
"Can you please fly lower?" you said. You were now uncomfortably high, hands stinging as you squeezed the rope harder. A fall from this height would probably break your leg, and you couldn't hold on much longer.  
Thankfully, he descended until your feet touched the ground. He stayed in the air, hovering with the grace of a--god damn his ass looked good from this angle. And his jumpsuit seemed tighter in that area than those of the others. Did Mindfang alter that for him, or did he do it himself? Neither of them seemed like the sewing type. You tried to suppress any ass-related thoughts (especially when combined with the knowledge that he'd be single soon) as you continued letting him fly. You kept about half an eye on him as you made sure everyone else was doing well, until it was time to go in.  
"Thank you for letting me do that," Rufioh said, "I feel better now. And...sorry about going too high. I hope I didn't scare you."  
He gave you one last smile before returning to Mindfang. They talked for a bit, until she turned down a small hallway. Rufioh must have caught you staring because he explained that she's using the phone.  
"She talks to her descendant whenever she can. Gives advice, that sort of thing. Her face always lights up when telling me about her conversations and it's the cutest thing," he said, sighing when he finished his sentence. So weird...  
"You two seem to have a good relationship," you said, "So why do you want to..." you trailed off, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.  
"Break it off?" he finished, smile stretched too tight, "It must seem weird from your perspective. Yes, what we have is great, but back on Alternia I....I killed her. That's what I remember when I'm with her."  
"So you don't want to be bogged down with bad memories, is that it?" you asked as you entered the common area. He ducked, turning to the side to get through the door.  
"I guess that's the reason, but how do I tell her without sounding like it's her fault I killed her?"  
"Trust me, she'll get it," you said, "You really can't come to that conclusion without twisting your words."  
"You've never actually met Mindfang, have you? She twists words a lot, and I don't think she knows she's doing it," Rufioh said, "Though that's with other trolls. She takes what I say at face value."  
"Try writing your thoughts as a letter. Then you can think about your wording a bit more."  
Rufioh smiled at you, wings fluttering in what looked to be more of a reflex than anything else.  
"That's actually a good idea. I'll try that."  
Mindfang entered the room, her usual confidence replaced with a pensive look.  
"How is Vriska doing?" Rufioh asked.  
"Hold on, okay? I need Darkleer's help with something."  
She left the room again.  
"That's odd. Usually she'd never stop talking about Vriska. I would probably have to hold her down and tape her mouth shut, and even then she'd just take control and make me decide not to do that."  
Wait, why would she ignore her boyfriend (matesprit? Was that the word?) and go see Darkleer. You thought about it for a second before you remembered what she had said a few days ago. They were working on something, if you remembered correctly.  
"Oh, it's about some project. Wasn't a phone busted or something? She told me they were fixing a phone," you said. Rufioh raised an eyebrow.  
"None of the phones are broken."  
Great. Just great. You hadn't even bothered to check the phones when you should have known not to trust Mindfang. That was unforgivably stupid. Now, what was happening?  
"Could you help me find out what she's doing?" you asked. Rufioh was close to her, after all, "Maybe I can get information faster that way, because I'm already swamped in some catnip trade investigation and adding this phone thing on top of my regular duties just seems hard."  
"I'd love to help, but I'd rather not be around Mindfang. Bad memories, remember?" Rufioh said. He smiled a little, an "I'm here for you" sort of smile. You found it absolutely adorable.  
"Oh, I'm sorry for asking, then."  
"But you said something about trading, and I think I can help. Everyone gets their things from Darkleer. He'll trade you anything he can get in here if you give him electronic pieces. Sometimes he really needs a certain thing and he gives you tons of stuff if he gets it. He might be connected to the catnip."  
Now you were getting somewhere. But you can't just search his cell, can you? He'd get angry, and if he can improvise a lockpick the way you saw in that video, how well can he improvise a shiv?  
"Okay. Can you get close to him?"  
"He hates me."  
You'll have to find someone else, then. Someone Darkleer respects, but enjoys being around. Preferably someone who can get into his cell. The Signless seemed like a good option. It would also be easy to get him to trust you.  
But for now, Rufioh needed your help.  
"Thanks for the help. I'm gonna go find the others, but talk to me if you need anything, okay? And I'll help you with any Mindfang-related issues if you need me to," you said. He just gave you a thumbs-up sign as you left.  
The next day, you're helping everyone get outside. Mindfang glared at you as Rufioh explained that, once again, he needed to fly and she should go play basketball or something.  
"I think she's just checking you out," the pirate said, "That's why she's doing this."  
"Actually, I asked her to help me," he said, "And it doesn't matter if she's checking me out. I've seen you flirt with people to get discounts, so why does it matter to you if someone stares at me?"  
Mindfang didn't reply, only huffing in irritation, and you let everyone out once again. You and Rufioh headed to the center of the yard and you once again tied the rope around his leg.  
"Quick question," he said, hovering a few inches off the ground, "Are you actually checking me out?"  
Were you? Maybe a little, since you happened to know that he was very attractive. Regardless of the truth, though, it was very unprofessional of you to admit that you were.  
"I'm trained to observe my charges very closely. I trust you more than some of the others here, Mr. Nitram, but I have to make sure you aren't carrying anything against the rules. I'm sorry for giving the wrong impression."  
He laughed and flew higher as you looked away, watching the others. Once again, no problems. Meenah had decided to watch the basketball game going on, but she wasn't being disruptive. Dualscar looked a little put out about it though. Porrim had apparently decided to take a nap in the sunniest spot she could find, curled up like a cat.  
Behind you, a crash.  
"Ow, shit!" Rufioh yelled, now in a heap on the ground.  
"What happened? Can you stand?" you asked. He hadn't fallen very far, but you thought you should at least ask.  
"It's my wing. I strained one of the muscles in it or something," he said as you helped him up. Other than that, he hit his horn while landing and twisted his ankle.  
"I'll take you to the infirmary, though I don't know how much they can do about your wing," you said. You took out your phone, so Redglare could help you.  
"Hey, Mr. Nitram injured his wing. Should I take him to the infirmary, or should I stay here and you take him?"  
You heard a little "hmm" from the other end of the line.  
"You take him. You took them all outside, right? I'll supervise that, and you can gain experience with how the general population areas deal with trolls," she said. You wondered if it was really difficult, given the current state of human-troll relations, and this was some trial by fire.  
Well, it didn't matter, did it? Rufioh needed your help, so you had to do it anyway.  
"Can you walk alright?" you asked.  
"Yeah, but it hurts," he said. He didn't elaborate further, putting an arm around your shoulders and leaning on that instead. You supported him as you two walked to the infirmary.  
Clearly, the doors in this section were made for humans. The doors of the troll section had been lengthened, since Kurloz and his massive horns couldn't get through normal doors. That extra length allowed Rufioh to just turn his head a bit and get through without bumping his horns. Here he had to turn to the side, duck, and tilt his head so the raised part didn't bump the doorframe. At one point, one horn scratched the wall and he looked horrified. He apologized for the damage, even if it was just a tiny scratch.  
The doctor in the infirmary looked surprised to see Rufioh struggling his way in.  
"Hey, don't you have your own infirmary?" she asked, very obviously staring at his wings.  
"There really aren't enough trolls to justify that," you said, "So he has to come to you."  
"I'll see what I can do, but I’m not familiar with alien biology. What is the problem?"  
"My wing," Rufioh answered. Her face fell at that, "I was flying and I felt this sharp pain in my back and I fell."  
She nodded, prodding at the wing and the muscles around it. He let out a small "ow" when she touched the injured area.  
"Hm...that's swollen, I think. From what I can tell, you tore a flight muscle. I may be wrong, since I've never had a patient with wings before. How about we treat it like a torn muscle for now? So you'll need to stop flying until it's healed, as well as putting ice on it and taking pain relievers. If that doesn't work, we'll try something else."  
And Redglare came in at that moment, some symbol glowing blue on her forehead and Mindfang in tow.  
"Another injury?" the doctor asked.  
"No," Mindfang said, "I'm just making sure my fairy bull is alright."  
He shuffled away from her as best he could, and then you noticed it. Since this was part of the human prison, there was nothing to block psychic powers. She could use her ability to its fullest extent now.  
And judging from her expression, she just did.  
"Oh, Rufioh, I didn't realize you...felt that way," she said, pulling away from him. You would have to ignore Redglare for now, until Hurricane Mindfang blows over. Or, judging from the kicked-puppy look she currently had, more like a flash flood.  
"Look, I can explain everything. I wrote a letter that puts it all into much better words than I could say. I really am sorry," he said, unable to look at her.  
"I saw everything I need to. I'm sorry for making you go through that. Had fate been a kinder mistress, you would have never met me."  
You tapped Redglare's shoulder and her eyes widened. The blue symbol on her forehead faded. You wondered if she knew some trick to shake mind control or something.  
"Mindfang, why are we here?" she asked, in a tone that indicated she knew exactly why.  
"I had to check on him," she said, voice thick with tears, "Even if he doesn't love me anymore."  
"Hey, that's not what I said!"  
“Look, Mindfang,” Redglare interrupted, “You do realize that mind-controlling me into taking you here, leaving the others with no supervision whatsoever, should get you solitary, right? I’ll go easy on you because of your emotional state, but just this once, and if you ever pull a stunt like this again I’m lengthening your sentence.”  
“You’ll probably be dead before my sentence is over.”  
“Even better, I won’t have to deal with you.”  
“Hey, Redglare, don’t let her get under your skin,” you said, “Just get her out of here.”  
“Fine, but you have to bring the others back in, since I didn’t get a chance,” she spat those last words, glaring at Mindfang.  
The doctor helped Redglare drag the pirate away, and you were alone with Rufioh. He looked over at you briefly before averting his gaze, eyes downcast.  
"I didn't expect her to take it so hard," he said, "I hope she can move on. I really didn’t want to hurt her.”  
“She’ll be fine,” you said. You could take a moment to make sure he’s okay before attending your real duties, “I’ll make sure of it.”  
“Really? From what I remember of our conversations, you don’t exactly have a high opinion of her. So why do you care?” he asked. His good wing had been drooping since Mindfang left.  
“Because for one, she’s kind of my responsibility. I should help her no matter what. Also, I think it would help you.”  
He smiled a little.  
“That’s very sweet. Thank you.”  
You started to put your arm around him. He turned to look at you and you swore you saw the world turn slow-motion for a second as his horn connected with your forehead. It didn’t hurt as much as last time, and you actually laughed when you fully realized what had happened.  
“Dammit,” he said, “Not again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about this taking so long. I'm not dead, just kinda lost the muse on this chapter plus I'm working on a fanventure right now. I'll try to post faster next time.


End file.
